Fire in the Darkness
by opalvampire
Summary: 10th Walker. As a witch, Elaniel takes prejudices from nearly all the other races, even that of her own race of men. And when she joins the quest of the Ring, it will not only be a quest against evil, but a journey shadowed by hate. Will hate and evil manage to destroy the already cold world, or will light and peace triumph?
1. The Outstretched Shadow

**I said that I wasn't going to publish until I had at least five chapters written (well, I have nearly three...), but I've been having this thing on the brain since _forever_(no, not really, just a couple weeks, but it feels like so long as this story has taken over my thoughts) and I really want to publish.**

**10th Walker (Don't Like, Don't Read)**

**I'm gonna say something about 10th Walkers. Yes, it's supposed to be the Nine Walkers for Nine Riders, but there's one thing to think about. It's not like they ever face the Nine. If something like that were to happen, then it would make any other Walkers obsolete. But that never happens. My opinion on the Nine walkers is to pick a small number because this quest wasn't one of might. (Hence why they didn't pick Glorfindel or Elrond's sons, or something like that)**

**On the other hand, the Fellowship all must _mean_ something. Frodo is the Ring-Bearer (of course), Sam is _his_ bearer. Gandalf symbolizes that even the mightiest can fall, but that hope isn't lost when he is resurrected in TT. Aragorn is going to be the King and bring together a splintered race. Merry and Pippin are that lack of power does not mean lack of strength. Boromir symbolizes that the temptation of the Ring can prove fatal. Gimli will rekindle the relations between elves and dwarves when he becomes innocently infatuated with Galadriel. And Legolas...well even Tolkien said that he didn't accomplish much...so another thing about the relations between dwarves and elves*maybe?* And when it comes to Elaniel, that will come up later, though it may be hinted in the summary.  
**

**One thing about this story, I have added a race to men. They are magic-using Naurgail Witches and have a Maiar ancestor. As I found myself getting very much more into Middle-Earth, I found myself thinking, "There should be a race of people that are more matriarchal," even though with Tolkien being in an age where feminism wasn't a big thing, but in the 21st century it is the new future. But for me, I'm not so much of a feminist, and I wouldn't have a society where men were pushed to the side (that would make us just as bad as men have been). But in this society, men and women have an equal standing as warriors, healers, etc. Cuz that's just the way I roll. I'm not gonna go into explaining just what the Naurgail People's History is (not that I don't have some ideas swimming around in my head), because I hope that if enough people enjoy this fic, that I can also add the little histories behind my made people.**

* * *

**~~**I**~~**

**The Outstretched Shadow**

Seventeen years. It has been _seventeen years_ since Bilbo's and Frodo's birthday party back in the Shire. When everything had changed, and not for the better. Each year began to grow darker, blacker even. And as she rode through the Weatherhills, south of her homeland in Arnor, Elaniel felt a sense of foreboding down to her very bones. It didn't matter how many times she had walked these lands; not now when her passing was that of a grave one. The weather had been harsh for early autumn; heavy rains showered over the journey she took through the hills.

As the grassy hills and craggy cliffs fell away, Elaniel could finally free herself from her sodden cloak. She spurred her horse on; a dapple-gray mare the color of smoke and storm clouds, and they flew over the flattening landscape. She was to reach the Weathertop; that was the meeting point. She would meet Frodo, Sam and Strider there along with Gandalf; where they had traveling from Bree. From Weatherhop, they would continue on to Rivendell for council. Elaniel would not meet them in Bree though; her kind weren't openly welcomed in Bree.

_Her kind. _Spoken as if they weren't of the race of Men. No, they were viewed as witches set apart from the mortal race. Mortal themselves, the witches lived and died in the same matter as Men. What differentiated them from the rest of the race were their magical workings; inherited from their divine ancestor Elaranel of the Maiar. Elaniel's people were known as the Gailor (Star Children), and their homeland was named Naurgail (Fire-Star), the naming of the dark red hair that more than half the people had; another trait of Elaranel. The Maiar's own magic's came from that of fire as well, taking similarities of Arien, guardian of the Sun.

Now, as Elaniel traveled south of her homeland in the northwest of Arnor, she became wary of her coming presence in Rivendell. Her people were welcomed within the Last Homely House; _Lord Elrond does not hold grudges, unlike others. _That and Elaniel herself had been there countless times before. But now there would be others, others that would not take too kindly to her. In that light, Elaniel would be the only representative of her people, as Gandalf had requested to Her Majesty months before.

Though as the weeks passed from her departure weeks ago, she could not help but grow uneasy. She had not been given a leave by Gandalf. She had not seen the eagle fly which was to be her incentive. Instead, she went by Gandalf's words that Frodo would leave by the end of the summer and took leave by Her Majesty and left a week later. Frodo and Sam would most likely be on foot and even as they left Bree, so she would make good time while she was on horseback.

As the month came into October, Elaniel felt a chill in the air; shivering down her spine and through her whole body. She could only come to one conclusion: Nazgûl. Either they had beaten the group there or the Nazgûl had scented their trail from Bree. If that be the case, then Elaniel now understood why the message never came. For now, she would lie in wait, watching the pattern of the Wraiths. If they lingered, then Frodo and the others had probably yet to pass, if they moved on then Elaniel would have to continue to Rivendell on her own. She could not waste time trying to search for them since they would not be using the main roads.

She did not dare to light any fires or move from her hiding spot in the brush that covered the surrounding land. Her horse, Eviera, had been made to lay in wait as well, but she would become impatient and uncomfortable. When this time came, Elaniel would lay her hands upon the mare, calming and soothing her, to which she would lie still, trusting her mistress. Over the course of the day, Elaniel could still feel the unmistakable chill of the Wraiths in the area, but they did not find her. They were not looking for her, but they knew the Ring would be somewhere close. She needed to find Frodo before the Wraiths would.

The next morning, Elaniel scouted the terrain, making sure she remained watchful of the Weathertop. The Wraiths would not abide staying there in the waking hours. But as she searched, she found no trace of any recent party. When she had actually walked upon the watchtower, she found the rune of which Gandalf had lain not two days past. That gave Elaniel the knowledge that the plan was not running smoothly; that Gandalf was not raveling with Frodo, not with that message. And if Gandalf had reason to flee, then Elaniel could not stay one more moment. She fled from the eyes of the watchtower as if the hells were on her heels. She also had half a mind to hightail it straight to Rivendell, but something gave her pause. Frodo and Sam would be in the care of Strider, and as much as she trusted his skill, he could not face the nine on his own. So she stayed on scout for the group of three.

* * *

For three days, Elaniel stayed in the area. The last two days, the chill of the Ringwraiths had lessened, though had not dissipated. They were searching, and the Ring must be on its way if they had not left yet. All the time, Elaniel felt a tension enter her; tightening her shoulders and back. She had to remind herself to ease her clamped fists and jaw. The Wraiths were now hunters lying in wait, and while she knew she wasn't the prey, she knew who was. And it set her on a _very_ narrow edge.

The mornings and afternoons lay quiet, but as the sky grew dark the clawing chill pervaded. It was then that Elaniel knew they were roaming in wait. But this night was different. There was an _excitement_ almost. _He's here!_ Elaniel thought, her heart racing.

But she was a ways away from the Weathertop, so she spurred her mare on, retracing back west. Eviera seemed to understand her mistress's desperation and kicked up her pace quickly. Dire as the situation was, Elaniel did not spare any thought or glance to anything other than the watchtower, so when a figure emerged on the path it was surprising to both horse and rider. It took all the strength she had to keep on her horse and even so Eviera was spooked. The prowler had no torch in their hand, but both their hands were on an outstretched blade.

When Eviera finally settled down the figure in front of her dropped their sword slightly. She could see his tall build, strong and lean, and could just see the lines of a man's face in the darkness. He called her name in a violent whisper.

"Strider!" She nearly cried his name in relief. "Trouble." That was all she needed to say and she held out her arm for him to climb onto Eviera and then they were off faster than the wind.

It took them a precious minute to reach the Weathertop and they jumped off the horse before she'd come to a complete stop. Together they raced to the top of the watchtower, swords drawn. Upon reaching the top, they found five black, cloaked figures standing in a slight formation toward a crumbling pillar and as the two came ready for battle, they broke.

Elaniel stood next to Strider as they fought the Ringwraiths, her long knives singing against the deadly blades of her opponents. The two of them had little hope of defeating the vile wraiths, but they needed to get them away from Frodo, though it seemed just too late as she heard him scream from behind her. She could not spare a glance as she rounded in front of Strider, honing her magic within her blade and swung in a horizontal arc that speared an extra foot with a fiery power that would have cut a man in two but did to only drive the wraiths back. One of them had a fire ignited on their robes, but it still came on the attack.

She and Strider now had them spread out to where they could nicely fend off the Nazgûl. They slashed and parried and blocked any advances and the two worked together to drive them off. As the flame grew on one of their robes, the Wraith had begun retreating into the night. In that note, Elaniel and Strider moved together, him blocking any blows while Elaniel made the chance to stab them, fire from her blade setting them ablaze. As the Nazgûl picked up their strategy, they all began to retreat. But there was still one a ways away and nearing the hobbits. With one more mighty swing, Elaniel carved her blade down with a fell swoop that managed to catch the last wraith even from a wider distance. It screeched, fire burning over its robes and it fell back to its brethren.

The adrenaline died down and Elaniel slowed her breathing before she heard Sam's voice calling out to Strider. She was next to him in making her way toward Frodo and was more preoccupied with his apparent pain that she did not notice the other two stragglers.

But they did for her. "Ella!" She turned sharply at the voice that sounded both surprised and pleased at the same time. It was little Pippin, smiling despite the danger they had just faced. _So, the little rascals got themselves into even bigger trouble._ If Pippin was here than Merry would be as well and she saw him next to Sam who hunched over Frodo. Merry seemed to have more concern for Frodo as he only met her gaze less than a moment before turning back to his friend.

Elaniel looked to Frodo whose eyes lolled back in pain; she inched toward him and placed a hand upon his cheek. It was startlingly cool…and would only get colder.

From beside her, Aragorn found a broken blade on the ground, which when he picked up, the blade disappeared into dust. "He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade."

Her blood went cold. _Morgul blade. Oh Frodo, no._ her heart broke at the fate that had been dealt upon him. Frodo was very dear to her since she was a young child and he but a teenager. She turned to Strider. "We need to reach Rivendell, fast."

* * *

They were quick, but they were not quick enough. Frodo was put on Eviera's back with Elaniel guiding the reins at his side. Strider led the way, torch in hand at a pace to which she had to jog to keep up and the hobbits had to nearly run. Frodo was regained more consciousness as they moved throughout the night. He actually smiled at Elaniel, having not seen her for many months. She smiled back but inside her heart hurt. Despite clamping down the pain his injury gave him, she knew he was in bad condition.

The other hobbits did not speak jovially to her as they would were they in The Shire. This was the big world and she was a warrior, in pants and tunics and blades instead of light dresses and flowers in her hair. Not only that, but they were worried about Frodo as well, and were lightly elated at his, if only slightly, improved condition. Even so, they kept next to her and even their new pony, Bill, was put into pace next to Eviera.

But the running would not make it to Rivendell in enough time. Even if Frodo was not so far gone, he would only deteriorate if one of them did not ride out with him.

As they took a small respite from traveling, Strider left the group to search for some athelas for Frodo's wound, leaving Elaniel with the hobbits. She lifted Frodo down from her horse and sat down with him in her arms, wrapping her cloak around him to keep him warm. Sam was boiling water to wash his arm and Merry and Pippin went for the food packs that Bill carried. She was only mildly surprised that they were hungry; even dire circumstances could not curb a hobbit's appetite.

When Frodo shivered, Elaniel pulled him closer against her, his head rested on her shoulder. "You'll be okay." She said, to both him and herself.

"I'm grateful you are here, Ella." He said, using the hobbit nickname that she was given long ago. She could not remember exactly who gave it to her, maybe Pippin. "I need…I need you…to…for a favor." His arm moved to the breast pocket of his coat. "Take the Ring."

Her heart stopped. She and Gandalf had never gone to discussing the Ring when they knew it was in Frodo's keeping. She knew that she was to keep Frodo safe, from the beginning to Mordor she would guide him and protect him and be his rock in the big world. But now, not even a quarter of the journey and she had failed him, she was not there to protect him when he needed it. And now he was fading. But the Ring…the temptation that was the Ring. Because of it, her friend was fading into darkness. What would it do to her?

"Take it," he mumbled, fishing the Ring out of his pocket and holding it out to her. "You are stronger than me."

It was the look in his eyes that swayed her. He believed in her, trusted her and she _would_ protect him. First by taking the threat of the Ring off from his shoulders. He was weakening and the Ring might just be the breaking point. So she took the Ring from his hand and tucked it away in the belt at her waist.

The Ring felt like an unexpected weight upon her. She felt something sliver down from the tip of her head, down her spine, move through her stomach and leak down to her toes. She was momentarily breathless; a rush of emotions flew through her which she could not fathom. It left her dizzy and almost disoriented. But she achingly pushed those sensations aside and pulled Frodo close once again.

It took another minute for the water to boil and then Sam and Elaniel washed over Frodo's arm and shoulders to warm him. By then, Strider had returned with athelas and rubbed it over Frodo's wound as well. Frodo's face flinched sickeningly and he let out a heavy and pained breath.

"We need to ride for Rivendell, soon." Elaniel said as she finished wrapping Frodo in her cloak, letting him rest. With his eyes closed he looked more relaxed. _Perhaps because he no longer carries the Ring._

From next to her, Strider mulled over her words. He paused before answering. "The Nine are lying in wait for Frodo to turn and bring the Ring to them himself. If we run then they will cut us down and we cannot defeat them. For now, we will continue on at this pace and hope that Frodo can hold on just a bit longer." She did not expect him to have an idea like this, but after he said it, it made perfect sense. They were risking the Nine if they rode out on Eviera in haste. But how long would Frodo be able to hold on? And how patient will the Nazgûl be if they did not get what they wanted?

She nodded and he answered her silent questions. "If he starts to fade or they start moving in, he rides."

They kept up their speeding pace for two days, stopping only for a couple hours break in the dead of night. They could hear the cry of the Nazgûl from a distance, but they did not attack their camp.

But Frodo was not getting any better, even with the Ring out of his possession. From beside him, Elaniel was tight-lipped, sweat dotting her forehead. Many a time she wished to simply climb upon Eviera and be on her way, with or without Frodo. If they were after the Ring, it was no longer in Frodo's possession, so he would mean nothing to them if he were to fade. _She _was the one with the Ring. _She _should be the one to decide what to do. But as those thoughts came to mind, she silently berated herself; selfishly thinking about no one save herself. She felt disgusted.

And when Frodo crumpled on Eviera's back, Elaniel knew that he had to get to Rivendell, now. "We are still several days from Rivvendell," she said in Strider's direction. "We should not be tarrying like this. He needs Elvish Medicine _and_ Elvish Protection."

Strider made his way to the back where Eviera walked and took her reins. The mare huffed but did not protest. He was familiar enough not to be a stranger to her. "Stay with the hobbits. I will ride with Frodo to Rivendell. Once we get past the Ford, he'll be safe ."

Elaniel shook her head. "No, I will take him. I have better means of protecting myself from them than you," she told him. _And I carry the Ring with me._ But she would not tell him that, even as she felt its pulse within her belt.

He let out a conceding breath and let go of the reins. He said nothing as Elaniel climbed on her horse's back, pulling Frodo against her. She heard Sam protest; Frodo was in danger and so far the Wraiths had not dared to come close. That would not be so if they rode. But there was little choice to be had if they were to save Frodo…and themselves.

Fighting back any hesitancy about her pursuers, Elaniel urged her horse onward and they galloped into the night.

* * *

Eviera rode hard throughout the night and well into the morning, and surprisingly there was no move from the Nazgûl behind her. But Elaniel did not expect that to last. She kept her view ahead of her and never faltered it, even as she heard Frodo let out painful moans in front of her. She tried not to jostle him much by keeping her pressed against her front, but while on a horse bumping around was near impossible to avoid. But Frodo took the pain in stride, even inquired on their progress, which elated Elaniel's mood if only a little.

It was high noon when the screech of the Nazgûl was heard. Her blood gone cold, Elaniel cried for Eviera to pick up speed, to which the mare gave a great burst. The Nine were not known to roam in the waking hours, but this was for the Ring. For the first time in millennia they could potentially radiate their power from out of the shadows and they were not about to lose that power. Even if it meant treading in the unfavorable sunlight.

They had been traveling in open plains as the cry was heard, but Elaniel quickly steered Eviera into the thicket of trees, hoping to outmaneuver the wraiths. Just before she made to the trees, she heard the pounding of hooves close in on her. Black shaded the corners of her vision and just before a black hand could claw at her, the trees took her surroundings. Eviera seemed to know just how dire their situation was and made to weave through the trees, never stopping even as their predators seemed to close in around her. She was a mighty steed and was a mind and will all her own. This worked well with Elaniel, trusting her horse while she took all that was in her to keep herself on the horse's back and Frodo away from the enemy's grip.

But once they were leaving the cover of trees, the Nazgûl came at her in an even greater fury and Eviera could not outrun the overhauled steeds the Nine rose upon. But that was when Elaniel took her incentive, reaching for one of the long knives strapped to her back; she built the power within her and the momentum and swung around her. She heard their cries and felt them hang back a couple feet. But she only had one maneuverable hand which could not quite reach the Wraiths on her other side. But it did grant Eviera more room to evade their pursuers and she dashed to the right where the Wraiths had drawn back. With that, Eviera rode to keep the Wraiths away from the unprotected left side.

They'd been riding hard for over half a day, covering tremendous miles and Elaniel guessed that they were very nearing the Ford of Bruinen. Just how much she could not tell or spare to think of as the chase continued. But once the Ford would come into the distance, the water would bar away the Nazgûl. Unless they were desperate enough to cross over water, which was doubtable.

Elaniel leaned over Eviera, Frodo pressed tightly against her, nearly covered from the view of the Wraiths but still they clawed at him. One got mere inches from the little hobbit, to which Elaniel answered with a cry out to her mare.

What seemed like hours, but could not be more than minutes, the running water of the Ford finally came into view and Eviera made one last push until her hooves meet the shallow stream. The powerful mare slowed to a stop and turned to give her rider a full view of the predators they had finally escaped. The Nine reared their horses to a violent stop at the edge of the gurgling water, screeching their fury.

"Give up the Halfling, _witchling!_" She could hear them hiss. _Never!_

She noticed one of the Nine seemed to set themselves apart from the other eight. His robes were black like the rest, but they seemed to exude something else…like blood. _Dark magic._ That was when Elaniel recognized him as The Undying. The king of old who had once ruled over her people. Durgilon. The mighty, yet terrifying king of old. The realization made her blood curdle. All her people knew the man who'd been born in blood-power; the first of their race that had fallen.

"_You think you have the strength to might over evil?_" She could hear his hissing as if he whispered right in her ear. Shivers raced down her spine. "_You will fall to darkness. You were _born_ to darkness!_" The Nine began to enter the river, causing breath to leave her lungs and she nearly lost her grip on _herself _when in front of her, Frodo was gained the strength to unsheathe his sword and brandish it at their foes.

"By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair," he cried, holding his blade high over his head, a strength that surprised Elaniel herself. "You shall have neither the Ring nor me!"

As his words cried from his mouth, a great roaring came from the upper Ford. All riders looked upriver to see great waves racing toward them. In its image were many horses in full gallop thundering toward them, swerving around the curves of the river and directly onto the Nazgûl, completely missing Eviera. The Nine screeched as they were swept up in the powerful wave and washed away.

At last, Elaniel could feel herself breath easily.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed, my dear reader.**

**Reviews will be loved!**


	2. The Bearer of Evil

**Here's chapter number two (with chapter three done and four starting on the works, *squee*). **

**I'd like the thank calatheil for being my first reviewer! Thank you so much! It has given me the heart to publish the next chapter even sooner than planned.**

**This chapter isn't so long and I wish it was, but it says all that it needs to and I shouldn't be putting meaningless words for the sake of length. There are going to be little tidbits of how the Naurgail witches are integrated within Middle-Earth within these chapters. I want to have the chance to put together a complete history (as complete as can be), but first I have to read through Middle-Earth more extensively. I have patience for things that hold my interest, but even that can wear it down. But I won't lose faith.  
**

* * *

~~**II**~~

**The Bearer of Evil**

The Last Homely House came into view, perfectly settled in between two craggy cliffs; the suns of autumn making the trees yellow and orange and red encasing the greens, golds, and whites that colored the House. Elaniel heard Frodo gasp in wonder as they crossed the white cobble-stoned bridge and into the pavilion. There stood Gandalf and Elrond up the stairs under the grand archway with Lindir waiting at the bottom to help Frodo and Elaniel off the horse. Gandalf had come bounding down the stairs to take Frodo in his arms. The hobbit smiled weakly at the wizard who took the stairs two at a time with a speed that Elaniel nearly marveled at. Elrond was quick to leading him into the House and bring to a bed for tending. Elaniel followed suit, though at a slower pace. She knew that Frodo was in good hands.

Elaniel waited outside as Frodo was being tended to and was joined by Gandalf soon after. "He will recover." The wizard said, whether for himself or the both of them she could not decide. "And the Ring is safe."

"Yes, I have it." Elaniel did not know why she spoke that aloud. Maybe it was to answer the question if Elrond had not found it in Frodo's possession, she did not know. But now as she felt Gandalf's stare from the corner of her eye, she could not avoid the situation. She looked up at him to see his expression in a mix of emotions: confusion, shock, but she was surprised to see no anger or admonishment. "Frodo gave it to me to hold; for safe-keeping." She said in a bit of a rush. "He'd already been stabbed and fading at the time." Though the first part wasn't exactly true; Frodo had _given_ her the Ring, made it her burden to bear. But Elaniel did not know if it was one she _could _bear.

But Gandalf made no remark against her instead took one of her hands in his own. "There is nothing you need worry over, _my little star daughter."_ He her in Elvish nickname. "I have never lost any trust in you and nor will I ever." With that he stepped away, gone looking for Bilbo.

Instead to feeling some sort of comfort from his words, Elaniel felt more troubled than ever. What was she supposed to do with the Ring? Keep it on her person? And would Lord Elrond be contented with that? She knew how he felt with the Ring in the hands of Men. He would probably have barely concealed fury with it in her possession, even if he knew her character well.

But the great elf was caring over Frodo and would not be disturbed. She was better left waiting for Aragorn and the hobbits to arrive with Glorfindel.

_ As the waves began to calm, Elaniel couldn't help but wonder at what brought on the mighty waters. It was just after Frodo had gained his strength and defense, but the hobbit had no power to call upon the Ford of Bruinen. Neither did she. But, who?_

_If for an answer, there was the noise of hooves behind her and Elaniel turned her head to see the golden elf riding upon his white and grey steed. Glorfindel and Asfaloth strode purposefully toward Eviera, coming to a stop next to her. _

"_You came in good time." The mighty elf said. His stern, yet good-natured face looked at the woman and hobbit upon the horse. "The Nazgûl never dare to cross the borders of the Ford, but it seems the Ring would make them desperate for any measure. It is good fortune that Lord Elrond and Mithrandir now know you are here."_

So it was they who called upon the Flood,_ Elaniel thought. Of course with the gallop of the horses she should have guessed. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh in relief. She was safe. The Ring was safe. Frodo was safe. But the relief did not last forever. "Strider," she said, "Strider, and three more hobbits are still on the other side of the Ford."_

"_Then I will fetch them." Glorfindel said, letting out a keen whistle. "Take him to Lord Elrond, he does not look well." With that Asfaloth rode onward, the whistle no doubt bringing another horse to bring the others swiftly._

_Elaniel did not tarry. She trusted the mighty elf lord as much as she admired him, and that was longer than a mile stone. In fact, in her youth she had begged for him to teach her, to which he obliged for the length of six months. She muscles could feel the ache from the memory._

_She turned Eviera around and urged her onward to Rivendell._

Coming to the bridge, Elaniel stood waiting for the little hobbits and Strider. She worried over the little ones, they were fearful for Frodo and of the wraiths that pursued them. And she was uneasy about them in the Big World away from the Shire, especially Merry and Pippin. They were notorious trouble-makers and she could not help but think of all the trouble that they would land into. And Sam, he seemed nearly distraught when Elaniel took off with Frodo. It wasn't that the jolly gardener did not trust her, but he was immensely worried over his master and friend.

Not only that, but her nerves were on edge and as taut as bowstrings. As she stood, she felt the aching desire to roam wildly through Imladris but at the same time she could not get her muscles to move. It was a restlessness she had never felt before and she could not find a way to explain it. But she stood at the bridge, picking at the V-incline of her tunic and rapped her foot upon the cobblestones.

It was hours before she heard the telltale clatter of hooves on stone and saw two horses and a pony approach the pavilion. Elaniel nearly felt herself fall apart in her relief at seeing the hobbits, so much so that she lifted Pippin off from in front of Glorfindel and enveloped him in her arms before setting him down on his feet.

"Where's Frodo?" Sam asked as Strider helped him down from the extra horse Glorfindel had called for.

"He is with Lord Elrond, getting the healing he needs," Elaniel answered.

The three hobbits crowded around her, bursting with inquiries, but they deemed to ask one at a time. She was the familiar one and they wanted answers from her since she was the one who'd delivered Frodo here.

She kneeled down in front of them grasped Sam and Pippin's shoulders, looking around to them with Merry in the middle. "Frodo will get all the help he can. Now we only keep him in our thoughts and wish for a swift recovery." The three hobbits nodded vigorously, and Merry and Pippin became more relaxed in their expressions. Sam was still on edge. Elaniel was going to have to change that. "Now, come, you are in the House of Elrond, let me show you around."

Even Sam smiled at that. Elaniel rose and looked beyond to Aragorn who still stood behind them. He smiled slightly, probably happy to have worrisome hobbits off his hands. She felt a tug in her hand and Pippin was pulling her across the pavilion, eager to see an elvish home.

As she led the hobbits through Imladris, Elaniel felt some of the restlessness disappear. But she knew it was only burrowing down until the opportune moment to rear its head again. It seemed to come up often, as they sat in the Hall of Fire and she could not keep her foot from tapping vigorously or when she lay down in bed and she shifted around for hours, never becoming comfortable. The restlessness hadn't abated even as Elaniel stared at the Ring where it sat on the stand near her bed. Turning away from it, Elaniel hoped that she would get a moment of peaceful rest.

* * *

The next morning, after a fitful rest, Elaniel continued showing the hobbits around Rivendell. They came to a broad hall, fencing and pillars were always open and they could still see the floor below them, but there was no stair nearby. The other side of the wall contained murals, one of which was depicting Isildur holding the broken edge of Narsil against the evil figure of Sauron. The moment the Last Alliance had won the battle against the Dark Lord, for a time. The battle that had been lost was that against evil. The might of Sauron could still live on with his forged Ring.

But even as Isildur gave into the seduction that was power, not he or any of his blood became desolate and forlorn. His father Elendil had been honorable in life; a great man and leader of The Faithful, friend to the elves, loved by each and every one of his people and the slayer of the first blood traitors of Elaniel's race. In great respect and honor, he had given a kingdom to Elaranel's prodigious descendants and crowned the first Queen of Naurgail, the name symbolizing her great power of fire and the star that was their great mother. The first Queen, Ruivien, had also stood next to Elendil and his heirs in the Last Alliance.

During the beginning centuries of the Third Age, the Naurgail people had total loyalty to the realm of Arnor where they had been gifted their kingdom. It was not only blind loyalty but friendship as well. Naurgail and Arnor had many a time mingled among each other. Over millennia ago, the first of two kings that Naurgail had was of the blood of Dúndain and nephew to Arvedui, the last king of Arnor, and the cousin of Aranarth, the first chief of the Dúnedain.

After the fall of Arnor, Naurgail began to have its own set of problems; dealing with the evil of Angmar that was nearly at their doorstep, trolls in the Ettenmoors to the east and the raids of the Bluebloods who'd grown outrageously in number. With that, the might and honor that had once been the realm of Arnor faded into legend and the Naurgail witches had been subject to hate and fallen of a, if ever, great people.

And that was not going to be quick to change. Not with the kingdoms of men shattered into isolated pieces…and no one to put it back together.

* * *

She knew what was coming when her presence was requested within Elrond's study. She didn't even have the nerve to eat before she headed there. She felt faint as she saw the Elf Lord watching her as she entered, but Gandalf was there and that gave her fluttering heart a slight reprieve.

"You got here quickly, my dear," Gandalf said, patting her arm as she sat. Elaniel couldn't even find herself to quirk a smile.

The room was silent as Elaniel sat and suddenly found her knees slightly interesting. Anything to let go of her frayed nerves and emotions. For the last few days, she had eased back into the peace of Rivendell, remembering places from her childhood, smiling as things she remembered had never changed. But there was still the restlessness that was still an ever nagging presence in her head. She kept it to herself as she spent her time with the hobbits and the elves, trying to enjoy the songs at night and the trees and secret spots that she had found a private sanctuary in as a child. But it did not hold the same joy, more like an apathetic disinterest. It felt unnerving and it was wearing Elaniel thin.

It was Elrond who finally spoke first. "I see that you still carry the Ring. And that you've had it since before the crossing of the Ford. Neither Gandalf nor I had aware of this."

Elrond was not going to skirt the issue. It wasn't in his character. "Frodo wanted me to hold onto it." She could not look into Elrond's eyes. She did not want him to see more weakness that he already knew.

"He gave it to you."

Elaniel could not breathe. She lifted her hand to her face, nearly biting on her nail. She could not meet even Gandalf's eyes. _The weakness of Men._ No matter what she could do, it was evident. Proven over and over again in the face of evil. She was no exception.

"Frodo has woken, nearly an hours' past." Elrond said, "I want you to return the Ring to him."

Gandalf turned in surprise to Elrond, coming to Frodo's defense; he was much too innocent to continue bearing this evil. She knew that he would want the elves to bear the evil as they were less corruptible of the races. It was in the Eldar that the power of the Ring could be contained, even against Sauron. Even in their dwindling numbers as they left for the seas in the West. It would not be in Men, no matter how much faith Gandalf placed in them, in the end they would fall against such evil. And Gandalf would not have Frodo be broken in innocence as a bearer of evil.

Elaniel heard none of their words. For the first time in days, she took in a perfectly even breath.

"Surly you can be more bending in this, Lord Elrond," Gandalf implored. "This is a burden he should never have had to bear. Elaniel-"

"No."

He voice sounded desperate and she nearly choked on it. But she swallowed that down and rose from her chair. "I will find Frodo right now." With a polite bow to Lord Elrond, she turned to leave, but gave pause as Gandalf called to her.

Gandalf had always trusted her, from the time she was a child traveling at his side. She wondered sometimes if he still saw her as the little girl would cuddle against him and curl her fingers through his grey hair as she slept. If only she was that small again, that innocent. But she wasn't a child anymore. She'd lived too long for innocence and naivety. "If Frodo decides to continue on to Mordor, I will protect him." With that, she left.

It didn't take long for her to find Frodo with Sam, touring through Rivendell. Merry and Pippin had found him as well. She found she could still smile as he threw his arms around her neck as she kneeled down to greet him.

"It brings me joy to see you walking on your own," she said.

Frodo smiled widely at her. "It is thanks to you and Lord Elrond." He seemed to notice something off about her. "What's wrong?"

He knew her too well. "You are on the mend. Your strength has returned. And now it is time I gave this back." She took the Ring from her belt and took his hand to place it. Their hands lingered together as Frodo had a look of faint surprise on his face. From behind them, the other three hobbits seemed to be admiring the scenery of Rivendell that would always be a novelty to them. She was glad of their lack of attention toward the two of them.

"I gave it to you," Frodo said softly.

She did not want to let him know how weak it made her feel, so instead she gave another reason. "Elrond is holding a council among the other races and I don't think they would be at ease if they knew I carried the Ring."

"Is it because of…" Frodo's words drifted. She'd told him many of the histories of her people; the good and the bad. The hobbits, Merry and Pippin mostly, saw her as a celestial-like being, but Frodo knew the truth and Bilbo as well.

Her people were hated out in the Big World. That was never to change.

And she could not be trusted with an object of evil.

* * *

**When I was starting to work on this (meaning writing random scenes in a notebook), I was looking up songs on my MP3 player to see what songs could fit a scene. (It's not so much an inspiration seeing as I can listen to about anything as I write.) And with this one it felt like there was one that kinda fit the mood in music and lyrics. Not exactly, hear me. But good enough for me.**

_**Pale **_**by Within Temptation**

**(A good couple songs that I had for the last chapter were _My Wings _by Lacuna Coil,** **_Supporting Me...Biolizard _from the SA2B Soundtrack, and _Run Boy Run _by Woodkid.)****  
**

**There's this perfect one for the trail through Moria that fits all too perfectly...can't wait!**

**Also thanks to BannaRamma132 and fallen-one1993(loves you chao!) for favoring and Girl of Twilight Wings, Lthien Telemnar, calatheil, ocmanda and fallen-one1993 for following.**

**Reviews will be loved!**


	3. The Council of Elrond

**Chapter 3 (WHOOT!) Well, I must say that the Council of Elrond nearly writes itself. And not just words for words, mind.**

**(Over 200 viewers now, hooray!)**

**Oh, and another thing about this story. I had a tid bit of Elvish in the last chapter, but seen now the language has been removed. I have nothing against Elvish (I just suck _terribly_ at languages), but when I read Elvish in fanfiction I find that it interrupts the flow of reading. Most of us probably skip right over to the translation, anyway. It is _especially irritating_ when there is elvish used in a fic and the translation are down at the bottom. It is _unbelievably__ annoying_ when I have to skip down to the bottom to find what that word means and then _go all the way back_ to where I was reading. It, again, interrupts the flow and is inconsiderate for those of us who are not used to Elvish. **

**For any language that is not Westron (a.k.a. English), it will be in _italics_ and that will be Elvish. I may even state what language is used outside of quotes. But mostly it will be just Elvish.**

* * *

~~**III**~~

**The Council of Elrond**

Elaniel decided to keep to herself as the first of the emissaries began arriving in Rivendell. She did not want an ugly confrontation with the other races. Especially the Woodland Elves; they might kill her on sight, despite any respects they had for Lord Elrond. The hobbits were questionable of her behavior but they did not press her on it, which she was glad. They were already done with touring Rivendell and could make their way around without assistance. And they spend all their nights at the Hall of Fire, listening to the elven songs and stories.

But she could not isolate herself forever, especially as Gandalf came to her chambers to escort her to the Council. She also couldn't help but voice dryly that if she were to be cut down, the fault would be all his. As she and Gandalf walked arm-in-arm through the hallways, Elaniel heard the slightest shuffling of feet. Turning behind her she saw a blur of curly hair hide behind the pillars. _Merry and Pippin. Maybe Sam. _Only Bilbo and Frodo would be in the council, and even as the other three hobbits heatedly argued, they would not be a part of it. But it seemed that they would be there some way or another. And Elaniel wouldn't be the one to stop them…but Gandalf. She looked over to him as he was chatting away over little nothings; one of the many tales that he'd told her as a child. She wondered if he knew they were being followed, or if he even bothered. She did not ask.

Her nerves spiked as they entered the council circle. Chairs made a crescent moon shape with space on both side and a short pedestal in the middle. Elrond's chair heading the circle, positioned to face all. Erestor's seat was placed near to Elrond's chair. Most chairs were already filled with men, elves and dwarves and Elaniel felt herself tense. Dwarves were not a big problem; with the gift of the Fire Stone to Durin I in the First Age, the Gailorians and the Dwarves had even relations. But the men and elves would be trouble indeed. But she would not shy away; no, she would hold her head high and know that she belonged on this council like any other. She felt their stares as she and Gandalf made their way to the far end of the circle and settled next to Bilbo and Frodo.

Legolas was filled with unease as Gandalf led the woman into the council circle. Even though he was used to seeing features such as snow-white hair and blue-tinted skin, he could not miss the other telltale features of the Naurgail witches: blood red hair and fair skin, tall with the might of magic in their blood. Magic that only ever led them cursed and astray. If this girl had not followed the path of her kin, then she would soon follow. How the wizard and Lord Elrond could dome to accept one into this council was unknown to him. He watched her move next to the wizard, dressed in dark grey tunic and pants with a cloak that matched her hair. He would not strike against her in Lord Elrond's home, but if she gave reason, he would not hesitate. His kin next to him also followed the movement of the witch but they did well to keep quiet. If she was welcomed by Lord Elrond then they had no right to speak against her.

Elaniel settled in her seat, glad she was surrounded by Gandalf and Frodo; two people who enjoyed her company. As she sat, her hand strayed to the embroidery on her dark grey tunic (it had a near purple hue to it, which she liked the color); dark red flames danced on the left shoulder and right leg. The finest clothes she owned; others were simple and travel worn. The patterns helped settle her as her gaze moved across the small circle. Across from her she could see Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir, and Glorfindel. She knew the Woodland Elves sat at the other side of Gandalf with men of Rhovanion separating them from three dwarves. And next to them sat…

Boromir. Her mouth dropped open ever so slightly. She did not expect to see him here, yet at the same time the Steward of Gondor would have no other than his first born go to Rivendell. Even so, the sight of Boromir put a shock through Elaniel that she hadn't had in a very long time. He had not changed much from the last time she'd seen him over ten years ago. Light brown hair that shined gold in the sunlight brushed against his broad shoulders. A well trimmed beard graced his strong jaw, instead of the scruff that used to frame it. His light blue eyes seemed to gaze at nothing as he waited for the council to begin. He was dressed in a maroon tunic that flashed a design of gold stars and lining at the end of the sleeves, and a dark leather jerkin that reached his shins. She saw the chain mail poking out from under his tunic sleeves and the vambraces he still wore and almost smiled. _Ever the warrior._

But thoughts of Boromir were pushed from her mind as Elrond gathered the attention of the council. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old." Lord Elrond captured even the dwarves' attention, who stood up straighter in their chairs. "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." The great lord turned to the hobbit sitting next to Elaniel. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

From next to her Frodo lifted himself from the chair (a tad oversized for him) and carefully made his way to the pedestal the whole council faced. His hand shook ever so slightly, but he placed the plain gold ring upon the stone and returned to his chair. Before he sat, murmurs grew among the races. She also laid her eyes upon the Ring, feeling the darkness and power that radiated from it. It called to her as she knew it called to the others. Offering power, might, a chance to vanquish all enemies. But it was a lie; deep down everyone here knew that.

Boromir spoke first. "In a dream," he rose from his chair and looked around the council. It was just her imagination, but Elaniel believed he'd purposefully avoided her direction. "I saw the Eastern Sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered," the whole time he was inching slowly toward the pedestal, toward the Ring. "A voice was crying 'your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'" His hand slowly reached out toward the ring of evil. "Isildur's Bane."

But before he had a chance to reach it, Gandalf rose from his seat, the Black Speech pouring from his mouth. The sky seemed to darken and the ground beneath them seemed to shake. From across the empty seat, Elaniel could see the Woodland Elves flinching, as if in pain. Elrond had his hand to his forehead, as if trying to shoo away a headache. As Gandalf continued reciting the evil tongue, it was like he wasn't alone in it, more voices heavy in tone seemed to join his as they uttered the great evil that they surrounded. When he finally finished, the sky lightened again and Boromir was cornered back into his seat.

Elrond was the first to recover and went to reprimand the wizard. "Never before has anyone uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris." He snapped. But the wizard was adamant.

"I do not ask for your pardon, Lord Elrond," he said, then turning toward all who sat in the circle, even her. "But may the Black Speech or Mordor may it be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether _evil._"

Gandalf made to return to his seat, but Boromir was on the rise once again. "It is a gift," he said. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" His voice grew excited as he implored to all in the council. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of _our _people are your lands kept safe." He walked around the circle, pointing to the men of Rhovanion, whose borders were close to that of Mordor like as Gondor. "Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!"

The thought made Elaniel want to sneer. _You cannot bring a weapon of evil to fight against evil. _She thought, her eyes glaring toward the Gondorian but he was not looking at her. _A warrior never uses his enemy's weapon._ Boromir had said that himself once in her company. Then she realized that these were not his words. _But Denethor's. _Loyal to a fault. She dared herself to speak sense to him.

But Strider got to it first. "You cannot wield it," he said to Boromir, "none of us can. The Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir turned to him, his lip curling slightly, as if the other man was beneath him. "And what would a ranger know of this matter?"

Strider did not want to answer that, Elaniel could see, but it was the Mirkwood Prince that answered for him. _So, they are friends._

"This is no mere ranger," the elf said, his eyes burning blue. Elaniel couldn't help but admire the color, cool and calm like the noonday sky and darkened like the sea with his anger. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Elaniel turned sharply toward Strider. With her, he had gone by a few names; Strider in the Breeland, Estel, and even Thorongil. But never Aragorn. Isildur's Heir. She remembered asking Gandalf about him and was given the impression that he was more than what he gave of himself, but the wizard had told her that it was not his honor to reveal. To her people he had been known as Thorongil and was kith and kin to the Gailorians. His grandmother and been Her Majesty's cousin. His mother was known as Gilraen the Fair to both Dunedain and Gailorians and had many suitors before she quickly wedded a man that her mother would not name to the Gailorian people and he had supposedly died soon after. It wasn't until her son was fully grown that Gilraen had come to return to Naurgail to live out the rest of her days, finding great comfort with her mother's people.

_Isildur's Heir._ She thought. He could have the allegiance of all the race of Men, Gailorians included. Her people had answered to the King of Arnor. She briefly glimpsed herself and her kin free of the sneers and hatred from outsiders, _Aragorn_ could give them such a thing. But never had Strider put himself within a position of nobility, especially as a ranger. The rich elven clothes seemed to give him a shadow of discomfort. His brow was tensed as he told Legolas to back off in light words of elvish. He looked uncomfortable, which Elaniel was confused. _Why does he seem almost _ashamed _of his heritage? _It was a question she would ask him later.

But even as Elaniel was impressed, Boromir was quite the opposite. He sneered at Aragorn saying, "Gondor has no king. Gondor _needs_ no king."

That made her lip twitch dangerously. Arrogance was one of Boromir's fallings, Elaniel knew that well. Once his pride had been something she admired, like many in Gondor's armies Boromir's confidence was what warriors gained their strength and resolve from. Knowing that their captain would lead them with utter surety inspired all who followed him. Even her.

But now, it made her want to knock his head in. _Foolish._ She didn't dare fight him within the council. That would stir up unnecessary trouble.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf said, his anger dissipated, "we cannot use it."

"You have only once choice," Elrond said, rising from his chair and looking around the circle. "The Ring must be destroyed."

One of the dwarves leapt from his chair, pulling an axe from between chairs, raising it over his head and smashed it upon the pedestal. No one reacted until the dwarf was thrown back off his feet. It seemed as though the strength of dwarf-forged iron should have been able to cleave the Ring in two, but there it stood on the pedestal, undented and without any scratches of scuff marks. Elaniel could feel the Mirkwood Elves smirk from the other side of Gandalf. _Pompous braggarts._

Lord Elrond spoke as if patronizing the dwarves, but he was above the pettiness most his other kin showed. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, only there can it be unmade." He paused, looking around the circle. "It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came." The council was silent at his words. "One of you must do this."

Elaniel closed her eyes and took in a shaky breath. _Into Mordor. _She thought. _Only a fool would do such a thing. Even if it mean ridding darkness._

She was not the only one with that opinion. Boromir spoke. "One does not simply walk into Mordor," he said, "its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep," his breath hitched slightly, "and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust; the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

The Elf Prince launched back to his feet. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" He snapped. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

Elaniel impulsively leapt out of her chair. "If you are so adamant, then take it!" She snapped back at him, flourishing her hand toward the Ring. "Take it into the fires of _hell!_"

Legolas was livid. "You would dare speak to me as such, _witch!_ I will not take words from a savage!"

The grin the witch showed was feral, her green eyes darkened to match, like the poison in the wood he called home. "When it comes to the savage of the race, we are two of a kind," she snarled.

How dare this witch be so impertinent? He would cut her throat! But he did not get the chance to as the young dwarf challenged him as well, and that pompous Gondorian general. By then Gandalf had pulled the witch back into her chair and his attention switched to the repugnant dwarves. He had to hold back his kin from physically engaging the dwarves.

Elaniel slumped back into her seat. _That damned elf! _She swore. _Boromir is not the only one with arrogance._ But she did not dare speak within the heated argument that rose among nearly all the council. Only Elrond, Erestor, Aragorn, Frodo, Bilbo and she stayed in their seats. And even if she did jump up again, Gandalf would only push her back down, preventing her from doing something stupid. _But that princeling asked for it. _A small, warm hand grasped her arm gently and before she could look over at Frodo, he was on his feet, imploring to the council, _requesting to take the Ring. _Horror marred her expression.

"I will take it. I will take the Ring to Mordor."

The council stopped their arguing and turned toward the little hobbit. Most of them were shocked at the wide-eyed innocent. Elaniel wondered if they were awed or astonished at how one so naïve could possibly handle something so grave. _If Frodo decides to continue on to Mordor, I will protect him. _Even as had she said that, it was in the belief that he would hand the Ring over to the elves and return home. It wasn't until he volunteered that she wanted, wished, _prayed_ that he wouldn't pick up this task.

"But I do not know the way."

Of course he does not know the way. He does not _need_ to know the way. He should be going home to the quietness of the Shire. Live out the rest of his life in peace. Not take up a task that could very well be the end of him. Elaniel could not stand for this, but neither could she find it in herself to speak. Even as Gandalf volunteered himself as a guide and Aragorn swore his life to protect him as well as the princeling and Gimli and even Boromir humbly pledged that he would see the Ring destroyed.

_This is it. It's really happening. _Elaniel took a deep breath and lifted herself out of her chair. Moving in front of Frodo, kneeling just as Aragorn had before her, she said, "My dearest friend, I shall protect you until the end or until my death." Frodo gave a welcome smile though his eyes were disheartened by her use of the word death.

As she stood, Elaniel braced herself for a protest from the princeling, or even Boromir, when a shout came from the foliage behind Bilbo and Sam raced past Aragorn and Elaniel to Frodo's side. "And Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me," he said, arms crossed, not willing to take any protests. Elaniel felt a grin form on her lips.

From the front, Elrond looked at the intruder with exasperated humor, "not needed, it's hardly possible to separate you, even when _he _is summoned to a private council and you are not." Sam blushed and shied away from Elrond's gaze but he did not move.

Next thing they knew, Merry and Pippin came running from the pillars at the other side of the council, "Ai, we're coming too!" Merry said and he and Pippin raced to Frodo's side, grinning like two co-conspirators. "You'll have to send us home tied in a sack to stop us!"

Pippin faced Lord Elrond, with the bearing of a lord himself. "Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest, _thing._"

Elaniel couldn't help it, she snorted amusedly as Merry made a quip to his best friend.

Elrond looked to all of them, as if inspecting. In front of her, the four hobbits straightened their spines under the Elf Lord's gaze. "Ten companions. So be it, you shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

There was no pause before the elf began his protests. "Pardon me, Lord Elrond," he said, keeping his manners toward the Lord of Imladris. "But she should not be deemed to travel among us."

_Among, not with. Pompous indeed._ "Is that because you believe to know my character?" Elaniel said smoothly.

"It is because you cannot be trusted anywhere _near_ the Ring," the elf seethed.

"Now hold just a minute," Pippin interrupted. "Begging you pardon, Master Elf, but I have known Ella all her life," Elaniel wanted to raise her eyebrows at him. He could not have known her all her life being that she was nine years older than him. "She is not the savage witch you think her to be. She outraced those horrid wraiths to bring Frodo and the Ring here safe and sound."

The elf heard his words, but it would not matter if she had defeated the Nine. He would never trust her. And Elaniel did not expect him to. "I will not be fooled by a wolf in sheep's clothing." Especially with those words.

"I'd be mindful of who you insult, _troll!_" Elaniel snapped. She heard a sharp cackle. Elladan or Elrohir. Or both. Even Gimli seemed to hold down a chortle. The Woodland elf both bristled and flummoxed at her choice of words. _Good._

"Elaniel!" Gandalf thundered. "Enough of this childishness."

"Childishness would include me sticking my tongue out at him." She quipped.

"Which you are momentarily about to do." The wizard did not stumble. She gave him a lackluster grin and turned back to the elf. She did not stick her tongue out at him, but her eyes still narrowed.

"And Legolas," Gandalf rounded on the elf, thwacking him with his staff, but that was nothing to the elf. "I will not have the two of you trading unpleasantries. Now apologize!"

The Woodland Prince did not want to apologize to a witch. Even if Gandalf trusted her, he would not. Never. But under Gandalf's glare and Lord' Elrond's hard look, he had to do as the wizard asked. "My apologies," he said, fighting to keep his tone even. If they wanted him to be sincere about it, they would never get it. But Gandalf was satisfied.

"If I may, Legolas," Frodo said, "I would trust Elaniel with my life. I don't know exactly what it is that fuels you prejudice, but I would not want to part with either of you in the Fellowship." He said this with such politeness that Elaniel felt her heart soften. She saw that the elf's expression wasn't hardened at the hobbit, but it would take more than his words to sway the Woodland Elf.

And he looked up at Elaniel and there was no more hatred, but cold indifference. That would have to do.

* * *

**There's not much song wise that can underline the Council but I liked **_**Defy You**_** by The Offspring near the ending. It fits well with how Elaniel feels the need to go on this quest within her own uncertainties and with Legolas fervently not wanting her to be there.**

**My friend and I were watching H: DoS and we constantly joke that Legolas is such a trolling bastard sometimes (especially as he jumps all over the dwarves' heads as he slays orcs and gets to the other side of the river) and I _sooo_ wanted to have a scene where he was called a troll. And I can't help but feel that Elaniel would be very snarky to those who look down on her, as a bit of a coping mechanism.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**Reviews will be loved!**


	4. Quest of the Ring

**My apologies for the late update. I planned to update on Tuesday, but I was hit with a violent wave of vertigo (think of seasickness...but on land) on Monday night/early Tuesday morning. It was horrible and on Tuesday I was still to dizzy that _reading _was trying, let alone _writing_ (messaging my friend on Facebook was a trial). That and I was busy with getting classes for college yesterday.**

**And also, I've found that I'm thinking about this fic _WAAAAYYYY_ too much. Taking everything I've written so far into great consideration. But I need to step back before I burn myself out. **

**I want to thank PureTempest for giving me some feedback. It's just what I needed.**

* * *

~~**IV**~~

**Quest of the Ring**

Elaniel knew that she would not be getting much sleep during the next few nights, and she didn't. Nervous apprehension filled her body, especially when she lay down at night. Lord Elrond would have them leave no earlier than the next week. No need to be hasty, he had said. At least they were leaving before the rest of the year passed. No doubt that a week would almost seem hasty for many an elf.

Plans were made for their departure at the feast Lord Elrond held for them. They would leave with no horses, against Boromir's suggestions, only Sam's pony, Bill, would be there to carry supplies. Their route hadn't exactly been set in stone. Many wanted to head toward the Gap of Rohan, but it was then that Saruman's treachery was made known to all.

Elaniel had nearly choked on her wine. _Saruman a traitor? _She'd met him on her travels with Gandalf and while at times she saw him intimidating, he had let her read through some of his great tomes and had helped with her magic training. He was the greatest wizard of the five that roamed Middle-Earth, a friend to Gandalf and her great mother Elaranel. But now he was a traitor. It made Elaniel's blood chill.

_So where now, the High Pass south of Mount Gundabad?_ She thought. _Or Caradhas…or even Methedras? _ Would they travel _over_ the Misty Mountains instead of around them? _Saruman, goblins, freezing snows, or worse…Bluebloods. _Elaniel grit her teeth, she knew that the Bluebloods had claimed the High Pass as their territory. _Which is the lesser of many evils?_

The Fellowship sat at a table of honor with Lord Elrond, but Elaniel half wished she could take her food to her rooms. The feast was a little grave with the Quest of the Ring being the honor. Also, Elaniel did not favor having to sit awkward company. The hobbits heaped food onto their plates and at nonstop, with already two helpings in their stomachs. Elaniel herself was in the middle of her second, (eating at a hobbit's table for so many years made her stomach become a near bottomless pit) and was more into her food than following the conversations the hobbits had among the rest of their group.

Elaniel looked for the plate of way bread when it was lifted in front of her. She looked up to see Boromir holding it out to her. She paused, how did he know she was looking for the bread? Did he still remember her eating habits and favorite foods? Across from her Boromir looked at her for the first time, right in the eyes. His face was indifferent but he nodded slightly to the plate. Elaniel took three slices and he put it back down. She didn't look back up and nor did she feel his eyes on her.

* * *

It was hours before dawn when Elaniel woke and she knew that there would be no more sleep this night. She checked on the hobbits in the room next to hers. Two beds that could fit four hobbits side-by-side each held two of them fast asleep and snoring the night away. She smiled and closed the door, _sleep well little hobbits, this will be the last time you'll rest on a cushioned bed in a long while. _With that, Elaniel went to find solace somewhere other than a place that begged for sleep.

She was already dressed; a maroon tunic that was layered to look like a little skirt at the bottom and a dark yellow over-tunic that functioned more like a sleeveless cloak that fell open and down to her thighs in the front and her shins at the bottom. A thick brown belt at her waist held the outer tunic in place and another strip hung down from it where a small dagger rested. Her dark brown leggings and black boots were new and sturdy. She didn't bother with her blades, quiver and bow, or her thigh sheathe with a small collection of throwing knives. She was comfortable enough without needing her weapons other than her dagger.

Her dagger was never off her person. All of her people, royals to peasants, had their own. It didn't matter whether they were warriors or not, each child would learn and earn their dagger when they reached thirteen years of age (warriors could earn it earlier). Every one of her people would be taught how to defend themselves; they could never know when it would come in handy. And many a time it did.

Her wandering led her to a small pavilion just off the main pathway. Under a thin ash tree there was a marble-colored bench long enough for Elaniel to lie back on. As she propped one arm underneath her head as a cushion, her other hand strayed to a little pouch at her belt. Inside was a ball the size just bigger than a walnut and pure gold. _Tithengil. Little Star. _It had been a wedding gift from Elaranel to her mortal husband, Laurëano, and it gifted the light of a star at his finger tips. It had been handed down by generations and into the hands of the first queen of Naurgail, who in turn gifted it to her successors. Before she was born, Elaniel's mother had done a great service to the previous king and she was given _Tithengil_ as a gift. It was then regifted to Elaniel as she tried returning it to her queen.

She whispered a little incantation in Elvish and _Tithengil_ lit up within her hands, fluttering up into the air like a little hummingbird on invisible wings. It hung just above her head and she lifted her fingers to tap and nudge it. The _Tithengil_ seemed to tinkle in noiseless laughter as it bobbed up and down slightly. It continued to weave between her fingers and brushing against them as she lay and let all her nerves fall into unimportance and she went into a near-trance state.

It was so much so that she did not hear the rustling of leaves and hard footfalls of the Woodland Prince as he made to give notice of his approach. As she failed still to notice him, he spoke up, "Is a bed not to your liking?"

Elaniel shot up into a sitting position. _Tithengil _sputtered against her as she rose until it came free and hovered near her face. A hand went immediately to the dagger at her hip.

"I mean you no harm," he said softly, even lifting his hands up in an act of truce. She only lifted an eyebrow, even if he said he meant her no harm, she wasn't about to let her guard down. Doubting he would either. His eyes still held that indifference but he did not look at her so coldly. That alone made her even more suspicious of him.

"Restful sleep evades me," was all she said.

"It bothers you already." It was not much a question but a statement. Elaniel nearly growled. She would not even think about whether the elf could be right. He would take just about anything she said or did and use it against her. Gandalf trusted her, Aragorn was companionable with her and the hobbits liked her but there was still some tension. Gimli had insisted that she keep her spells to herself at dinner (even if dwarves held Gailorians in friendship, they were superstitious about wayward magic), Boromir would not speak to her (he would hardly even _look_ at her), and now this _elf_ was going to discredit her at every turn.

"I don't need you taking mismeanings of my words, elf," she told him. "Whether you like it or not, I am here to guide and protect my friend. If you have any problem with that, keep your words to yourself."

He did not stumble at her words. "I'm here to put my prejudices aside for the good of the quest." He simply said. "And you would do well to do the same."

She half smirked that these words. No doubt he'd spoken to Lord Elrond about taking her out of the Fellowship but was refused and told to make nice. It made her want to laugh. _Lord Elrond does not yield to a petty prince._ Her admiration for the Elf Lord warmed her. Though, even if he did make nice, he was not going to be completely sincere about it. "It must have wounded your pride to say such things, _Legolas Thranduillion_. Yes, I know who you are." She added to his recognition of his Elvish name. And there was one more thing. If he was going to antagonize her, then she would do the same. "Though, I thought you'd be older." She'd done it: said the one thing that could piss off _any_ elf.

The words had done its trick; his eyes flared dangerously and his knuckles turned white. But he did not move to strike her. She knew that this was dangerous ground, and the elf prince was about ready to kill her right now. But he would probably be flayed alive by both Gandalf and Lord Elrond for spilling blood in Imladris.

Instead, he walked away, seething no doubt, and Elaniel laid back down on her bench until dawn.

* * *

It didn't take long for Elaniel to become restless, still bothered by her confrontation with the elf, and so she made her way to the stables to see Eviera. There she was chewing on hay next to Asfaloth.

"Hello, girl," she greeted her horse, nuzzling against her forehead. The mare nudged her muzzle against Elaniel's chest. She was going to miss her mare; she'd been a gift from Gandalf five years ago. They'd been constant companions in that time and good friends. It felt disheartening that Elaniel would have to part with her. But it was better for the mare to be free to roam instead of sitting here idling. She would head to Naurgail or perhaps roam Rohan, the place of her birth.

After watching her mare leave the Elven Home, she came to the southern courtyard where the House of Elrond gathered to see the Fellowship off. She'd gone back to her rooms and gathered her supplies; a well-worn leather jacket and her red cloak pinned to the shoulders and her weapons strapped in their right places. A small satchel she would have Bill carry was all that was left.

As she entered the courtyard, she immediately noticed the twin sons of Elrond approach her. They fell into step beside her and Elrohir even slung an arm around her neck. She was well acquainted with the young lords as they held close friendships with the Dúnedain and Gailorians and she'd traveled with them many a time along-side her cousin.

But the friendly gesture was for Elrohir to whisper in her ear. "As good as it is for you to join this quest; I have a word of advice: do not antagonize him." Elaniel did not have to ask who _he_ was.

Elladan continued his brother's words. "Earlier, we saw the Woodland Prince _seething_ as he strode through our home. I have never seen him so angry." He would not say it aloud, knowing that every elf in the vicinity could hear him. But Elaniel could tell he wanted to congratulate her in a small, subtle way. It's not that they didn't like their Woodland kin, but marring anyone's pride was a running game to them. "I am unable to guess at what you said to him."

She wanted to ask just how they thought _she_ was the one who pissed of the elf prince, but she knew that he was aware of the joke she'd made against him. She'd used it on both of them before, and they told her to be wary of whom she said it to. But she'd only used it once since them, and yes it was a _very _foolish move. "Well, if he's going to have an attitude, then it's only fair I repay the favor." She told the twins.

Elrohir moved his arm away and stood in front of her, blocking her path. "But what about being the bigger person?" Elaniel gave him an exasperated look. _He's spent too much time around Men._ Especially with his goading smirk._ Too much time with Aellanw__ë__, _she thought, naming her cousin with whom Elrohir got along famously with, _they both get a kick out of goading reactions out of me. _

Elladan moved in front of her as well. "If this is the way you're going to act, then I may as well gut you right now," he made a mocking blow to her stomach. Elaniel moved back with a grin. She would never grow weary of them or their devilish antics.

But the jokes were now over and it was time to bid farewell. Elrohir grasped her left forearm in the traditional Gailorian greeting and Elladan did the same at her left. She gave their forearms a light squeeze in return and smiled at the brothers before they walked away.

The two went to stand by their younger sister, Arwen. Her head was tilted down slightly; her eyes struggling to keep tears away. She knew of the elf maiden's love for Aragorn, but now it seemed that there was something…off. She looked at Aragorn who stood at the archway that led out of Imladris. He did not look to his love but at anywhere else. He was distracted, burdened. Days ago, Elaniel had tried to talk to him about his new-revealed identity, but he had brushed her off gently. And more often than not he seemed almost moody.

She didn't understand what about the idea of kingship made him so uncomfortable. He was a just and honorable man and would make for a great king. It didn't matter what Boromir said, Gondor _needed _a king to lead them through such hard times. Her people could use a king, to reform ties that were withered away to near nothing. Her people could be free of the hate and prejudices that came to them.

"You do not know what the weight a crown can put on one's shoulders."

Elaniel turned to see Glorfindel standing next to her. The Elf Warrior did not look at her and neither did he stare toward Aragorn. Yes, Elaniel didn't know the weight of the crown. She was of the royal family (using that term loosely as succession was handled very differently in Naurgail), but she would not be in line for the throne. She did not want to, even if Her Majesty wanted to choose her as a successor. She was too much of a wayward wanderer. Maybe she did understand Aragorn, just a little.

"Since he found out of his heritage as he became a man, he has been a man burdened." Glorfindel continued. "He has never quite accepted it. Do not think little of him."

"I guess I still don't know what to think of it," Elaniel said, turning toward the golden-haired lord. "All I can see right now is what he can bring to my people. Perhaps I am being selfish."

Glorfindel turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "There is nothing wrong for wanting good for your people. Never forget that." He said, "You are just and strong. Let no one take that from you."

Elaniel felt like she was under his teachings again. She would hang off his every word like an eager puppy. She had swooned over him so girlishly that in later years she had worried if he had looked down on her foolishness. Fortunately, he didn't and for that she was grateful (she wondered sometimes whether he'd even noticed). Words of wisdom from him were always appreciated. She still admired him, but did not need to act so silly around him anymore.

She placed her right fist over her heart and bowed to the Elf Lord in the respects of her people. His hand left her shoulder and held it out to her…for her to clasp. Elaniel was stunned. That was for the greeting of friends. Glorfindel was polite to her always, but never had he stepped that line even as he nodded and smiled to her respectful formalities. Now to hold his hand out to her in friendship…that was a great honor indeed. She grasped his forearm and he did the same to hers.

Her farewells were done and so Elaniel want to stand ready to leave. The hobbits were already at the ready since there were few who knew them well enough to give something other than well wishes. But Gimli was still being crowded by his kin, gaining many well wishes and hardy dwarven fellowing gestures. And Legolas seemed to have a word with every elf within Elrond's home.

Legolas stood by his kin, still needing to reassure them. They were opposing of his decision to join the Quest. He'd been sent to Rivendell as his father's courier, telling Elrond that Gollum had escaped from Mirkwood. That was to be all, but with the revealing of the Ring, Legolas knew his path was set. The darkness that was consuming his home was spreading all over Middle-Earth and he could not simply allow himself to ignore it as his father was contented to do. Not anymore.

Yes, his father would be angry when his kin returned without him, but would not stop Legolas. He would see this evil be rid of or he would die trying. The world was worth that sacrifice. His dearest friend had taught him that. He couldn't help but think that if she still lived Tauriel would have joined the Quest in less than a heartbeat. Now he would do it in her stead. The thought soothed him as he still felt the grief of her passing.

He turned toward the rest of the Fellowship and took his place there. The witch, he could see, was standing next to Frodo with a hand on his shoulder. The small hobbit seemed to relax slightly under her touch. It seemed that there was very little that a hobbit didn't like, but it was most likely bred out of their naivety. He admired the hobbit, but was wary of any influence the witch could have over him. Legolas would be ever watchful of her.

Earlier he'd spoken to Lord Elrond at why she had the right to travel with them. _She is not your enemy, and not only you must be made to see that,_ were his words. He didn't know how the Elf Lord could trust her or his sons be so friendly toward her as he'd seen just earlier; how they'd even joked with her.

She was insufferable, especially with that tongue of hers. She'd poked at his pride and dared to jest him. How was her arrogance not seen by others? Not even Gandalf could be made to see reason as he looked too fondly at her, much like a little bird. _She has crawled too deep into their hearts for my liking, _he thought, _but not all at least._ Aragorn seemed to keep her at a safe enough distance. Boromir just made to ignore her and the dwarf had made no real standing.

The dwarf. That would be another problem. Dwarves were too proud and greedy and obstinate. The dwarf's own arrogance was shown as he deemed the elves untrustworthy. Legolas had to deride that and none of his kin were pleased with the stubborn views of the dwarves. They could not compeer with the Eldar. They were more likely to be twisted by the Ring in their greed.

But as he stood at this beginning, he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Try as he may. So he ruefully conceded.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on the Quest to Mount Doom," Elrond said, "You who travel with him; no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will." Legolas almost wished that some of them would decide to back out, but even he knew that pride and honor would not let them. "Farewell, hold to your purpose, and may the blessings of Elves and Men and Free Folk go with you."

Gandalf made to wait on the Ringbearer to lead them and Legolas watched as Frodo made his leave under the arch out of Rivendell. The witch did not follow his heels, but waited and walked beside Sam and the pony. That eased Legolas's mind slightly. And soon they were headed off.

* * *

It was not even an hour into their march that Elaniel realized they were headed south. "Do you intend for the Gap of Rohan, Gandalf?" he called to the wizard who stood next to Frodo. She did not travel next to them. Though, Frodo did seem more at ease as he talked with Gandalf.

"Yes, my dear, that is my intended path. The Gap could still be open to us." The wizard answered.

Boromir piped in from behind her, the first words ever spoken between them in twelve long years. "Do you know of a better way east?" His voice was hard and sharp, vainly feigning venom. _So is this how it's going to be?_

Elaniel felt her upper lip twitch and her eyes glare, but she did not turn to face him. Instead, she answered to Gandalf, "I did not think you would stray so close to Isengard so readily, especially with Saruman's betrayal."

Gandalf pondered her words, if only momentarily. "What road would you have us take? Through the Misty Mountains? The High Pass?" He knew that, if she could, she would choose none. But that was impossible. She didn't answer so he continued. "Last I heard, the Bluebloods had claimed the High Pass. You should know this as well as I."

Yes, she did know. But it was either them or Saruman. It seemed like the lesser of two evils…slightly.

"Bluebloods?" Sam inquired from the other side of Bill. "Never heard of them before. And they don't sound too nice."

_No, they are not._ "They are a…_division_ of my people." Elaniel said. "Thousands of years ago, one of my ancestors had wanted the power of our Maiar mother. He'd spent years working dark magics in hopes of filling these ambitions. And he was not alone. One of their atrocious crimes was to drink the blood of the immortal elves." Elaniel told her tale with complete calm, but inside her stomach was sickened. Dark as they may be, they were still _her_ kin. "In their heinousness, they were cursed from the inside out, vile and disfigured. Their common traits were dead white hair and blue-tinted skin, hence the name." But now they were hardly disfigured; they had managed to scheme themselves out of that. Now, they could sometimes be deathly alluring. But Elaniel wouldn't say that.

"How is it you never told us this?" Pippin asked, walking up to her side. He did not say it against her, at least.

Elaniel blinked. "I thought I was doing you a favor." She could not help but tease Pippin. "You need not know of such unsavory and nightmarish tales. But if you insist, I have a gruesome tale or two to tell of about how they skin and gut their victims."

From beside her Pippin went slightly green in the face and shook his head no. Perhaps she shouldn't have made it a joke.

"You think they are a joke?" Yes, definitely not. The elf turned back to face her, blue eyes hard with malice. "Your kin defile the elves, and still have a right to live? And you think that's amusing?"

_A _right_ to live? _She thought. Like her kin was doing nothing to trim down their numbers around the Arnor borders. Her people knew that the Bluebloods were _their_ responsibility; their own powers caused the mess and by their hand it would be undone. True, they could not venture everywhere the Bluebloods go, as Gailorians were not welcome in most parts, even when hunting down enemies. It was not _their_ fault. But a _right_ to live? His hate ran deep…and Elaniel knew why. The last Queen of the Greenwood had been taken by the Bluebloods and killed at least a thousand years ago. It was said that the Bluebloods had left her bones to King Thranduil as a sick game. Her kin never ventured anywhere near Mirkwood; they would be killed before they even knew what hit them. And that was the _mercy_ of the Woodland King.

For that she was sorry, but he must be known that not all his prejudices had rightful grounds. "Not all of my kin drink the blood of elves; there hasn't been a blood-traitor within my people over two thousand years. And trust me; Bluebloods do not differentiate between what or _who_ they eat." _Do not antagonize him. _Those words fell to the wayside. "Maybe I should slay you as I would an orc. As you know, they were Elves once." She did not draw a blade, but looked straight into his hard eyes, her lip falling into a sneer. She _hated_ this damned elf.

He did not flinch or hesitate at her threat. "Once tortured, but not bloodthirsty were they, unlike yours." He spat.

"Different origin. Same result." She retorted. "The Bluebloods are our enemies too."

Before Legolas could say anything back, Gandalf snapped at them. "I thought I told the two of you that there would be no unpleasantries! Now will you stop this foolishness or do I have to send you two back to Rivendell and have Lord Elrond sort this out for you."

Elaniel and Legolas glared at each other for a few more moments before Elaniel strode off to walk next to Gandalf. The Fellowship continued on in near silence for hours.

* * *

**Hoped my dear readers like!**

**Yes, I put the idea of Tauriel in this story. When I first found out about her, my first thought was "she's gonna die in the Battle of the Five Armies". And when it came to her and Legolas, they would never be a _thing_. But in my opinion she means quite a bit to the story of the hobbit. The Woodland Elves are isolationists from the origins with Oropher who said that there would be no peace as long as Sauron lived. They fortified themselves in Greenwood and after Thranduil's rise to the throne after Oropher's death, he only tightened that resolve (as seen in DoS). So it got me thinking, if Legolas was anything like his father and grandfather, then why would he be in the Fellowship other than he was seemingly just chosen by Elrond in the book? I was taking in the dialogue of Thranduil, Legolas and Tauriel and really just put together something that happened to Legolas's character when it comes to the last Hobbit movie(in which Tauriel is going to die...if she doesn't, well this is my world). I can't help but think that he would change as a person with her death.**

**Oh, and one thing. I've designed a more feminine outfit for Elaniel. I want her women to have a great standing in femininity as well as warriors. That and I love to design clothes.**

**Reviews will be loved (and very inspiring)!**


	5. Journey of Evil

**Here it is chapter 5 (and I'm getting dizzy all the sudden, damn bright computer screen...or something). Well...there isn't much to say about this chapter other than enjoy!**

* * *

~~**V**~~

**Journey of Evil**

It wasn't long before their trek became a string of days that reflected the ones before it. They had the same rhythm as the Fellowship was up at dawn and breakfasted lightly (much to the dismay of the hobbits) and continued on until well into the night. It was up to Aragorn or Elaniel to hunt and forage with Elaniel doing most of it as it helped her forget her tensions.

She and the elf had not even looked at each other after their spat and that seemed to keep the others from feeling like they were walking on eggshells. But he was not the only one. Boromir did the same and Aragorn and Gimli did not openly approach her (though they were never rude). The only choice Elaniel had was to find companionship with the hobbits. Luckily they were still as open to her as before, or else she would have gone mad.

Now she was on one of her hunting trips. The rabbits and foul she and Aragorn had caught days before were growing thin, mostly due to the hobbits. She had taken to keeping bits of dried meat in her pockets to feed the ever hungry hobbits from time to time as they marched. Aragorn sometimes discouraged her, but their groaning stomachs were as loud as an earthquake, and he let it pass.

Through the dense foliage she could see some passing deer. _Perfect. _She drew an arrow from the quiver at her waist and adjusted it to her bow but held it relaxed. Don't be hasty. The deer sensed a presence and moved away. Light and fleet-footed, Elaniel followed them. She could see five of them, though none were young enough to make it a family. And they were all does. She looked for the biggest one and pulled her arrow back. They scattered as her arrow hit its mark. That would feed them for another day or two. She went to her kill and pulled the arrow out of the eye socket and hastily cleaned it before returning it to her quiver. Heart triumphant, she hauled the doe over her shoulder and returned to camp.

It was well into the night and everyone had already eaten. Elaniel was ever grateful that Sam wormed his way into the Fellowship as his cooking was an art form even in the wild. He'd taken the little animals and made them into stew with the few delicious herbs he had within his pack. And with the deer, it went well around with even Gimli giving compliments to the huntress. Elaniel beamed at him.

The hobbits were the closest around the fire pit and weary eyed but none of them were going to sleep just yet. Pippin, with his head leaned against Elaniel's arm, made a request. "Could you do that trick you once did with the fire?" He asked, moving his head to look at her.

She smiled. "What trick with fire? I know many." She felt the stare of Gandalf but did not look at him. She did not need to be a show off, she heard his silent words.

"That one with the eagle." Pippin answered.

Elaniel sighed slightly. "I don't think the others will be as entertained as you, Pippin." Pippin's face fell as well as Merry's at the other side of her. They liked it when she did little magic tricks for them. Sam and Frodo looked at her as well, Frodo giving her a wistful smile. _Well, a little bit can't hurt. _

She nudged Pippin off her arm to have full movement and she leaned toward the fire. From next to her, he and Merry took in a breath of excitement. She held out her hands toward the fire and, with a swift movement, captured some within her palms. Orange light gleamed from the lines of her fingers as the fire shined through her palms. The heat did not burn her. Little catches of fire often did not. She waited an apprehensive moment before she opened her hands and little wisps of fire flew up in the shapes of small birds: hummingbirds and pipits and warblers and robins. They flew out of her hands in random patterns; some circling the camp fire, others flitting above the hobbits' heads. One flew close to Gandalf; it was the biggest and about the shape of a cardinal.

Sitting next to him, Gimli tensed. As the bird of fire came toward him, the dwarf shooed it away with the hand that was not holding his pipe. "Go away," he chortled, trying not to shy away from the thing. A bird was harmless, but not one made of fire. As amusing as the little trick may be, he did not want to be unintentionally burned. The bird evaded his hand and did not come closer to him but it did still fly near. "Come now, off!" Taking the message, the bird raced into the air where it flared out and sent down tiny sparks that were cooled before they came close to the ground.

"What did I say about keeping your spells to yourself, lassie." The dwarf accused. Elaniel grinned sheepishly and gestured to the hobbits, as if the magic was their fault. The hobbits merely chuckled in slight merriment.

Gimli harrumphed and continued smoking on his pipe. Elaniel could feel his sharp eyes on her, but at least it wasn't as bad as the elf.

* * *

For the next fortnight, it rained profusely. This made for a miserable journey as sodden clothes and slippery paths brought even the most optimism down. The hobbits complained the most, not being used to being soaked to the bone without the prospect of sitting in dry, warm blankets next to the hearth fire. The best thing they could get was to bundle near Legolas as night came, since an elf could not feel cold even during a snowstorm. Even Gimli came to be like a great furnace.

Many a time Pippin or Merry would ask Gandalf or Elaniel if they could cast spells for warmth. To which Gandalf merely reprimanded them for foolish questions, not being overly fond of downpours like the one they were stuck in.

Elaniel replied more patiently. "And it's not from lack of trying, but it seems to make me colder if I try. Magic is like that sometimes, as if it takes a piece from yourself." She told them.

Even so, the rest of the Fellowship took the rain in stride. They were still in areas with light forest and found refuge under, or if they were lucky _within_, trees. The foliage would turn the downpours into drizzles that became easier to manage.

It was another night against the trees where the rain became a gentle fall with the trees all but blocking dripping water. Legolas kept watch with Gandalf half rested against a thick tree trunk next to him. The others were all settled against trees that made a near circle. The witch – he would not allow himself to give her name – lay across from him and Gandalf with Frodo leaning against her, her cloak made to wrap around his shoulders, and Pippin lay with his head in her lap, mostly covered by her spare cloak. Often the youngest hobbit would be at the witch's side, he seemed to be infatuated with her from what Legolas could see. He did not know whether to be appalled or disgusted.

He sat down next to Gandalf, not daring to take his eyes off the witch as her cheek rested upon Frodo's head. "Gandalf," he made to speak with the wizard.

But Gandalf did not wait to listen. "You need not say any words. In fact, I implore you not to." Legolas let out an unelf-like huff. The wizard continued. "I have known her since she was little, and she has traveled with me for near thirty years. There is nothing that can be found untrustworthy about her."

"Everyone has secrets." Legolas replied, remembering what the grey wizard said about Saruman and his betrayal.

Gandalf seemed to understand that. "Try not to think so little of her. She has done nothing to earn your scorn, or that of all the others."

_All the others._ So he and his people were not the only ones. Though, it wasn't from any of the hobbits, for sure. Aragorn had nothing ever to say about the witches. The dwarf and Boromir seemed to keep their distance, especially the Gondorian. "I don't want to wait for her to give me reason." Legolas said finally.

"Then stop waiting for it." Was all Gandalf said and spoke no more.

When the rain finally stopped, the Fellowship nearly applauded in relief. The hobbits definitely did. As they watched the clouds go away, they all made to shake out their waterlogged bodies.

Elaniel was especially grateful. Nothing irritated her more than soaked boots. And her hair seemed to pull her head back. Her flaming red hair had waving curls that fell past her waist and was very thick, even when she was a girl. Not once had she ever wanted to cut it. Even now, as it was sodden, tangled and heavy upon her head. She took care in undoing the braids on her scalp and untwisting the curls from each other. Being soaked actually made this easier since her curls lumped together.

"That mane must weigh a stone now," she heard Merry comment.

She laughed as she twisted it in her palms and squeezed the water out. "Indeed it does, my friend. Maybe even more." Water enough to fill a goblet or two dripped from her hair and there was still going to be the damp that only the sun could rid of. Satisfied, she flipped her hair back over her shoulder, where it felt less heavy on her back. She would wait for it to dry before she did any sort of braiding.

Taking the morning to rest from the rain, memorializing the feel of dry clothes, they set off after an early lunch. It was days later that they reached Hollin.

Formerly the great Elven Kingdom of Eregion, Hollin still had a bit of its wholesomeness. The air was cool and fresh and the holly bushes still covered far and many creatures made this place their home.

The Fellowship set themselves on a stoned setting that overlooked the valley slightly and they could see the Misty Mountains to the east. Large rocks jutted from the earth and were swarmed with holly bushes. Gandalf reclined himself on one and lit his pipe, Gimli next to him again. Merry and Pippin implored Boromir into sword practice, something the man had established weeks ago and just now got the chance to continue during the good weather. Frodo looked on from a stone perched above them as well as Aragorn nearby to supervise and give input. Sam was at a small fire, cooking up lunch for him and the other hobbits.

Elaniel didn't sit and idle. There was a slight nagging in her mind. It was odd seeing as they were in such a peaceful place like Hollin, but…something was off. It was too…quiet. And she hadn't seen any birds fly over them since they settled in. Where were they? Where were the teaming creatures? And why could she hear a _silence_ ringing in her ears?

She stood facing the south, feeling the wind push at her back. It blew her unbound hair in front of her face, but she made no attempt to tame it. From behind her, she could hear Gimli imploring Gandalf about the trail through Moria. Elaniel felt herself go rigid. _Moria. He would no sooner choose that road than he would the High Pass._ The thought of the ancient dwarven realm brought shivers to her spine. She knew what loomed there and she would _rather_ take the High Pass then Moria, Bluebloods aside.

Though, even this road was giving her doubts. They'd been lucky so far to not cross any trouble. No orcs or even spies. But Elaniel felt like their luck was running out.

She felt a presence next to her and instantly tensed when she saw they elf standing not half a meter away from her. But his attention was not toward her. She followed his eyes, but saw nothing. "Do you feel it too?" She hoped that as an elf, he would know what she was talking about. It would sate her curiosity or ease her paranoia with his answer. But he did not answer her or even acknowledge that he heard her. She tried not to click her tongue in annoyance.

A sharp cry brought Elaniel's gaze towards the hobbits and Boromir, the man had apparently nicked Pippin on accident and he and Merry went to tackle the big Gondorian. Elaniel felt an unbidden laugh escape her as Aragorn came to settle the hobbits down and they proceeded to yank his feet from under him. She would have to remember that one for later.

She turned back to the south and saw the faintest black cloud in the sky. _An omen of some sort?_ She was not the only one to comment on it as Sam asked about it too. Gimli didn't fret, saying it was but a mere cloud. But it seemed to be coming closer…quickly. _Against _ the wind that had pushed at her back.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas announced.

Elaniel didn't even pause for reassurance, an elf's eyes were never doubted, as she jumped down from her perch and slid into the nearest holly bush. It was so thick that she could barely see the sky above. Luckily she had all her things with her and didn't need to hesitate. Though she hoped the others would find cover in time, and with Bill.

She couldn't dwell on that as the screeching Crebain made their way over the outcropping. And they didn't pass over. Elaniel could feel them circle their post and head back south. _They found us._

She came out from the bush and returned to the stone perch she stood on just moments ago. She looked to Gandalf who emerged from his hiding spot in the rocks with his hat in hand, a sour look on his face. "Spies of Saruman. The passage south is being watched." Where would they go now? It was too late to take the High Pass. Would he actually _consider_ Moria? But he had another doom in mind. "We must take the Pass of Caradhas."

* * *

It took them the rest of the day to reach the foot of the icy mountain. None spoke as they marched; even the hobbits knew how desperate they now were. The next day they were working their way up the mountain in snows that were knee deep, if one was lucky.

Elaniel worried about the hobbits. Downpours were hard on them, but snow? It wasn't a miracle in the Shire but again, hobbits weren't always out in it. She worried about their exposed feet. Yes, they were hardy and leathery upon rock and dirt paths, but she doubted they would be impervious to the cold.

But they seemed to be managing as Sam got help from Gimli herding Bill up the mountain and Frodo kept close to Aragorn. Merry and Pippin rounded up snowballs and proceeded to wail them at the rest of the Fellowship, but one hit at Gandalf sent Pippin down into the snow so far that only his hair showed from the white. Elaniel was gasping for breath as she hauled Pippin to his feet. They learned not to hit the wizard but still aimed shots at each other and Boromir, who returned with some of his own as well as Elaniel and also made a competition to see which one of them could hit the elf. Legolas deftly managed to dodge any throws the two hobbits made for him.

But Merry and Pippin soon put their fun on hold as trudging through the snow took up most their effort. They stumbled often and Elaniel walked near them, keeping an eye out for fumbling and caught them as they began to slip. Merry was just in front of her and Pippin she could feel clutching her cloak. Luckily they hadn't stumbled for quite some time and Elaniel found herself wishing for the snowball fight to renew itself. Neither of them managed to hit the elf yet. It was a shame, especially as she saw him up front near Gandalf, his feet delicately on top of the snow; elves were light enough on their feet that even soft snow did not crumble under their wake. _Fortune's favored._ Elaniel nearly grumbled. That and the way his skin didn't even show the slightest hint of pink flush from the cold. She wished she could pull his leg out from under him and send him sprawling into the snow, much like Merry and Pippin did to Aragorn in Hollin. But getting close to him wasn't going to happen and he would know what she was planning before she had the chance to do it. _If only, if only._

The snow became even more fragile as Elaniel stepped down to have her whole boot submerged. It only worked to darken her mood. But she was brought out from her brooding thoughts as somebody slipped from behind her. She could hear Aragorn calling out Frodo's name.

She turned to see that he had fallen head over heels and rolled down until Aragorn had caught him at his feet. The man lifted the hobbit up on his feet and dusted the snow off him. Frodo's hands immediately went to his neck and began searching frantically as he could not feel the familiar chain he now wore the Ring on.

Elaniel felt her eyes roaming, searching the snows for where it could have fallen. The snow was the only thing keeping her rooted to the spot, but she made to step out and search.

Boromir got to it first. Right where Frodo must have first fallen. He stooped down and picked up the chain from the ground, bringing it to his face. She could see the faintest look of hunger in his eyes. It was an odd look on him. Even in Rivendell. Now, she still couldn't quite believe how valiant, honorable Boromir looked at the Ring with…longing in his eyes.

_You long for it too,_ sounded in her head. _You once had it in the palm of your hand, just as he nearly does. _Elaniel shook her head. She let the Ring go. It did not belong to her. It was not her burden and she did not need it.

_Burden? Strength is not a burden. The power to eliminate those who have wronged you; that is a gift._ The Bluebloods. The elf. Boromir.

_No! _Elaniel cried in her head just as Aragorn snapped at Boromir. Boromir snapped out of his reverie and went to hand Frodo the Ring. The hobbit snatched back into his grip and Boromir trudged on. Elaniel stood still for a moment, watching as Aragorn loosened his hand upon his sword. He would not hesitate to attack Boromir, to end him before he took the Ring. And she didn't doubt he would extend her the same courtesy.

She remembered in Rivendell, when the Ring was in her possession and how…stretched it made her feel. The restlessness. The gnawing at her mind. Where was that now? Her body seemed to know that it did not want to Ring…but now? She had _looked_ for it. She had _wanted _it. How was it that she had changed so? Or did she even change at all?

With a slight hiss, she turned around and continued up the mountain, brooding thoughts picking at her mind.

The first couple days up the mountain were lucky. There was no falling snow and the sun still shone brightly enough that it gave a bit of lighting if not warmth. But as they made to the upper peak and their climb was around the snowed paths, the storm had come.

A bitter blizzard caught them in its grasp and bit at them wildly. The wind was hard, especially for the hobbits, who only had the might to keep on their feet. It was Aragorn and Boromir who then gathered up the hobbits and slugged through the waist deep snows. Gandalf was at the head, cutting a path through the snow with his staff and Elaniel was right behind him. Gimli stayed behind to lead Bill and Legolas walked along side them, his feet still upon the snow rather than in it. He easily made it past Elaniel and in front of Gandalf as he looked into the storm as if looking for something. Elaniel herself could hardly see Gandalf less than three feet in front of her. What did the elf see in the blankness of the sky? What could there be at the other side of this blizzard?

"There is a fell voice on her air." She could hear his voice as the faintest whisper. _Fell voice? The blizzard? _But it couldn't be.

Gandalf answered it for her. "It's Saruman!"

A crack was heard above their heads and huge pieces of the mountain came tumbling off the side of the mountain, threatening to take them with it. They all leaned toward the wall of the mountain, staying as far away from the offending boulders. Both men used their bodies to shield the hobbits in their arms. Elaniel could see the looks in their little faces. They were terrified.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn cried out to Gandalf, his voice nearly lost on the howling winds. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

But Gandalf did hear him and did not agree. Where could they go? There was nowhere else _to_ go. Nowhere that didn't have evil influence. Nowhere would they be even mildly safe.

Elaniel watched as Gandalf left the deep path he'd cut out in the snow and stood atop the edge of the mountain. The biting wind caught her like a knife through her body and her eyes stung trying to keep them open. She watched the wizard, holding out his staff to the storm, chanting his spell, fighting the white wizard over the fell mountain. The radiated power thrummed in her ears. Saruman. All consuming power that demanded its presence. She recognized the feel of his magic, one user to another could do such a thing. That power used to awe her…now it terrified her.

And his power won over as a crack of lightening flashed through the sky, hitting upon the mountain, and raining snow upon them all.

Legolas was the first to emerge from the snow. As hard packed as it was, it would not hinder an elf. He dredged up the snow next to him that covered Gandalf and the witch. The wizard easily punched through the snow and he made to unbury the girl beside them.

She looked breathless as her head emerged from the snow. Eyes closed, taking in gasping breaths. Her fair skin was completely white, except for the freckles that lightly dotted her face. Her red hair looked like a dying flame on the snow. Her expression as she glanced at Gandalf looked hopeless. Legolas almost pitied her.

The rest of the Fellowship made to break free of the snow. Aragorn lifted out from the snow and waved the snow off Frodo and Sam, who coughed for air. From the back, Gimli burst out from the snow, roaring like a bear as he did so. His beard was covered with snow, making him look like an elderly dwarf.

"We cannot stay here!" Boromir cried. "This will be the death of the hobbits!"

And it would be. They were all shivering. Merry and Pippin's faces were so cold there were white instead of pink. The clutched their cloaks to them, but there were probably as cold as they were with the being covered in snow. Elaniel didn't even want to think of their poor exposed feet.

"We need to get off the mountain. Make for the Gap of Rohan, or take the West road to my city!" Boromir yelled over the howling wind.

Did he not see that _this_ was the work of Saruman? The work of a wizard that he wanted to venture _closer_ too? If they go anywhere _near_ Rohan, they would be facing his wrath.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"We are too close to Isengard now!" Elaniel cried. If the wizard could reach them here? Where is _safe_ now?

"If we cannot go over the mountain, let's go under it!" Gimli cried his exclamation. _No, please no. Anything but that._ "Let's go through the Mines of Moria."

They wouldn't. Couldn't. Khazad-dûm was not the same great dwarven realm as it was in the First and Second Age. Not with the rise of Durin's Bane. Did GImli even realize what he was speaking of?

The Fellowship was quiet as they awaited Gandalf's words. Finally, he spoke gravely. "Let the Ringbearer decide." He looked pointedly at Frodo, who looked back at the wizard, wanting guidance as to which road to take. But the hobbit didn't know what was out in the Big World. He knew nothing of what awaited in the dark mines.

And when he chose it…Elaniel felt her heart go cold.

* * *

**One thing to say about Elaniel's magic: she does not have power **_**over**_** fire. It does not bend to her will and she cannot manipulate it. It is more like her power **_**shows**_** itself as fire and that makes it so fire is more **_**companionable**_** to her. She can still be burned if say, she were to be blasted by fire (I'm not gonna say by a dragon because that will incinerate **_**anybody!**_**).**

**Like and Love! Reviews will be nice.**


End file.
